Interior Catholic

  • The Antiquities of the Jews

    My “massive book” of this year has been The Complete Works of Josephus. Any reputable history of Israel or the Jewish people references something from Josephus, with some only known by his exhaustive attempts at a complete history. In typical bookworm challenge (and a little prideful “I can read that!”), I started this 1,184-page tome in January. As we near the end of July, I’ve just finished book one, The Antiquities of the Jews. The back cover sums it up in one tidy sentence: “A history of the Jews from Creation to the Roman occupation of Palestine.” Easy, right?

    Much of the beginning is familiar to anyone who’s picked up a Bible. It truly begins with Creation, with the “constitution of the world,” as the sub-chapter heading declares. But as it goes through the familiar history, some parts stood out for including further historical details that aren’t mentioned in our well-loved Bible readings.

    1. The origin of the name “Hebrews” itself (book 1.6.4). Josephus slips this in during a long genealogy. In the line of Shem, third son of Noah, is a descendent named Heber, “from whom they originally called the Jews Hebrews.” Shem himself is often considered the father of the Hebrews, ancestor to Abram-turned-Abraham. I’m not sure why the entire nation was named after Heber. Beyond his lineage, I can’t find much about him. But his name means “to pass over,” which is fitting for the history of the Jews.

    2. The priest-king Melchizedek (book 1.10.2). He only shows up a couple times in the Bible, but we know him as righteous, a prototype of Jesus Christ. He was king of Salem, offering aid and provisions to Abram in his battle against Sodom. Salem was later called Jerusalem. This beautifully entwines his righteousness with Jesus even further!

    3. The role of Moses’s father (book 2.9.3). Moses’s Biblical tale begins with his mother concealing his existence, but Josephus includes a vision of his father, Amram: He prayed fervently, fearing the fate of the Hebrews under Pharaoh. But God promised them relief, revealing not only that his son would be the one to deliver them, but also his brother would obtain the priesthood of God. No wonder Moses’s mother had such faith when releasing her son into the wild.

    The Antiquities contain the most comprehensive history of King Herod and his sons, revealing much not in the New Testament. It progresses through the many dynasties that followed the fall of the line of David, confusingly intertwined with other nations. The Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Romans; Israel was under the control of nearly every surrounding nation at some point, making the political intermarriages and who rules what sector impossible to follow. By the time Jesus’s era arrives, it’s easy to see how the nation was under such turmoil, and why Pontius Pilat was as involved as he was in the crucifixion.

    There’s a small reference to Jesus himself (book 18.3.3), a blip in the whole of Jewish history:

    Now, there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works—teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles. He was [the] Christ; and when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him, for he appeared to them alive again the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and then thousand other wonderful things concerning him; and the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day.

    Most Christians will likely read this to learn of Israel in Jesus’s time, which can be summed up as “political drama” and persistent turning away from God. There are entire sections that don’t mention God at all, so it’s a surprise when He’s brought up again. In the Bible, the prophets foretell the destruction of the nation, and here we see it happening. The Antiquities ends with Roman occupation, and the first seeds of revolt. The tale is about to get more interesting as I delve into The War of the Jews.

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  • Just Write

    I spend a lot of prayer time asking what to do with my life. It’s ironic, because I kind of know the answer. But I don’t like the answer. I’m looking for another way out, or something easier, or something grander. It’s like Naaman’s anger when Elisa says to wash in the Jordan River seven times to cure his leprosy. Who cares about the Jordan River? What’s that going to do for leprosy?

    I prayed my usual, “Please grant me guidance,” then crossed myself and stood up. As soon as I turned, I felt/heard/knew that little voice speak—write.

    Audibly, I groaned. “What am I supposed to write?”

    I was always composing stories as a kid. I even “published” a book. I wrote it, printed it off our dot matrix printer, and bound it into a three-ring binder. I even drew artwork for the front cover and spine, and emblazoned the back cover with a made-up publisher’s logo. (Clearly, I was destined for Book Production.) Like most teenagers, I had notebooks filled with poetry no one was allowed to read. In college, I majored in Creative Writing, because I couldn’t think of anything else I would want to do. I eventually realized I needed a steady paycheck and changed gears slightly, but the writing never left me.

    A lot of people have stopped asking when I’ll write a book. It’s a relief, but also a little sad. Sometimes I think this isn’t my calling, because it’s a struggle to come up with anything. It’s the struggle of any creative—I have this talent, so what do I do with it? But am I burying my talents instead? I hate writing. I hate the whole process, from coming up with an idea to finding the right words to fill it. But when I sit back and re-read something, after several rounds of edits, I think… huh, I’m pretty good at this.

    When I worked for a Christian publisher, I thought I could write devotionals. I was newly Catholic, well-read, and thought devos (industry lingo) would be easy. As usual, I talked myself out of it via a mental barrage of questions: Who’s the audience? Do we need yet another generic Christian devotional? Do Catholics even use devotionals? Can we tie it into our Jewish history somehow? Valid questions, and some good ideas, but it tired out my brain and I scrapped the idea.

    Then I thought of doing quick, digital, week-long devotionals on my website. I can use this space for something besides talking about myself! I can advertise in church bulletins! Again, I talked myself out of it.

    Creatives have a bad habit of self-depreciation. Other people can write something better, or have already done it, or no one will care. All of that could be true. But no one has my specific story. I’m still searching for good Baptist-to-Catholic stories, seeking someone whose journey resembles my own. I know they’re out there, but no one’s writing books about it. Another rejected idea: publish my paper journal. But that’s too personal. People will be offended!

    Hasn’t Jesus taught me anything? If you’re not offending anyone, you’re not doing it right. If you’re making everyone happy, you’re not being honest with yourself or with God.

    I continue to come back to that small voice: write. I complain that I have nothing to write, but look at all these ideas I’ve had. I’ve been blatantly ignoring it, and it’s embarrassing at this point. God had to really hit me over the head with it. I’d stopped in my steps, closed my eyes, and sighed in defeat. I’m not happy about it. Also… maybe I am, a little.

And they said to him, “Inquire of God, we pray thee, that we may know whether the journey on which we are setting out will succeed.”

And the priest said to them, “Go in peace. The journey on which you go is under the eye of the LORD.”

—Judges 18:5–6

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